


Keeping The Cold At Bay

by PlaneJane



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlaneJane/pseuds/PlaneJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Merlin's duty to keep the king warm when he has a chill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping The Cold At Bay

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt on the [Forced Bed-Sharing Fest](http://aerisaturner.livejournal.com/39309.html) \- _Merlin and Uther. It's Merlin's duty to keep the king warm when he has a chill._ Merlin obliges all of the King's requests with sufficient enthusiam, though _you might call it dub-con at a squint._
> 
> Originally posted on Livejournal in February 2011.

The King certainly didn’t _appear_ to need Merlin to keep him warm. 

Uther didn’t seem chilled as Merlin rubbed a poultice onto his chest (not as firm as Arthur’s but the memory of once-taut muscle still quivered beneath his touch). Merlin shivered in the frigid air as he slopped and smoothed the foul onion-smelling goo and tried not to notice the nubs of Uther’s nipples standing to attention at his ministrations.

“I have some hot tea and chicken broth, Sire.” Merlin skip-hopped back to the bed where Uther had kicked back the covers and sat propped with pillows, his long nightgown now pulled down to his knees.

When Uther drank the medicinal tea and sucked down his bowl of broth his cheeks were already florid, the wide expanse of his hands (much bigger than Arthur’s, but softer with age) still looked fleshed with warm blood. Merlin looked away from the other part of his body that looked fleshed with warm blood, though it made itself amply noticeable through the flimsy drape of his nightgown. (On that, Merlin was going to make no comparison to Arthur because that was simply depraved.)

Merlin took the bowl from Uther, unintentionally grazing his fingers across Uther’s hand.

“Good grief, boy, your hands are frozen.”

“It’s a little chilly in here, Sire.” Merlin sniffed, and wrinkled his nose. It wouldn’t do to cuff the dribble that was precariously clinging and threatening to drip from his nose.

“Put another log on the fire then I want you back here.”

Merlin picked out the largest log he could find in the woodpile and resisted the temptation to enchant it with a spell to make it burn through the night. He wanted his head to remain on his shoulders, even if it was feeling rather thick and heavy.

Approaching the bed, Merlin queried, “Shall I pull up a chair, Sire?” He looked around hoping there was also a thick blanket to put around his shoulders. He shivered once more, suppressing the urge to cough. That onion-poultice really caught in the back of his throat, even from this distance, though it appeared not be bothering the King at all, reclined as he was in a nest of fluffed pillows and breathing with ease now his chest had been warmed.

“I think it would serve us both better if you stayed - in the bed next to me. I may need you in the night.” Uther patted the space next to him. “I trust my son is now fully recovered from his cold, and Gaius, too?”

“Yes, Sire. Gaius sent his regards for your speedy recovery.”

Merlin was certain he didn’t imagine Uther mutter under his breath, “I’ll bet he did.”

Merlin shuffled nervously for a moment, not quite sure what he should wear, or more to the point _not wear._ He didn’t want to soil the King’s sheets with his workaday attire, dusty as it was. 

“Come, come, you’re making me cold just looking at you.” Uther frowned and Merlin recognised those creases on his brow and instantly made the decision to whip off his boots and jacket and climb in. He was halted by Uther’s grip on his wrist. If Uther was weakened by his illness Merlin didn’t want to find out what his grip felt like full strength. Not one bit.

“There’s a shift over in the chest. Put it on.”

Merlin faced the fire as he changed and tried to ignore the gaze that was blazing over his naked back and thighs as he dropped the soft linen over his head. He rubbed his hands up and down over his arms to warm the fabric and slipped between the sheets next to Uther, who swept the covers over them both in a single flourish. 

“Blow out the candle. There’s light enough from the fire.”

Merlin tried to settle; the King’s bed softer and warmer by far than his own. With the heat of Uther’s solid presence behind him Merlin should have felt toasty and somnolent but his body rattled and shook and the prickle of chilblains stabbed in his toes and fingers, keeping him from drifting off. 

It was hardly a surprise that Uther might find Merlin’s jittering an annoyance but it was altogether unexpected when Uther huffed and wrapped a heavy arm over Merlin’s waist and pulled him to his chest. Merlin let out a coughing gasp.

“It appears you’ve caught a chill. I should send you packing, as I did Gregory, but seen as I’m on the mend I see no harm in you staying. Indeed, it would be in your best interest to stay. There is still some herbal tea on the bedside? Drink it up.”

“Yes, Sire,” Merlin croaked, as he leaned out of Uther’s hold and downed the last of the brew. It bloomed heat in his chest immediately. 

As Merlin wriggled back down he was acutely aware his nightgown had ridden up, as had Uther’s, and there was no mistaking the hard line of the King’s cock pressed hotly against his back. Merlin shivered, clung to the pillow and hoped through the haze of illness delirium that Uther’s energies weren’t completely restored. 

The tea seem to be working its way downwards, along with Uther’s hand, until he tugged with his fingertips at Merlin’s hem and spread a slimy palm over Merlin’s aching chest. “Plenty of this left over for you.” Uther’s whisper was hoarse again, but with the fever of lust not sickness. He began to work his fingers in circles over Merlin’s chest, rubbing the slick of the poultice over his goose-bumped skin, dragging his fingers and the heel of his palm over Merlin’s nipples, rocking the hardness of his cock against the cleft of Merlin’s arse. 

Merlin closed his eyes, but Uther’s weight and warmth had enlivened him, made him dizzy even as he lay cradled in Uther’s arm, passive in his participation, but responding without being able to stop himself with low moans and shudders. 

“So lazy. But warming up, I think.” Uther laughed in his throat and pushed his cock between Merlin’s thighs. He nudged his cockhead forward until it slid over Merlin’s balls and thrust quick and shallow, his breath hot against Merlin’s neck, his arm snaking beneath Merlin’s body and pulling him closer.

Merlin was hard, and tempted to touch himself, but before he dared give in to it Uther had moved his other hand down and taken Merlin’s cock in the heated circle of his fist. 

_“Oh.”_ Merlin reached back and grabbed at Uther’s hip before he could check himself.

“Ah, now the boy responds.” Uther squeezed Merlin’s cock, a bit too hard and Merlin had to bite at the pillow not to cry out. “You’ll have your turn. Don’t spill yet.”

Merlin nodded, the sudden authority in Uther’s tone brooked no dissention. Not that Uther was in a position to do much about it, except maybe have him flogged. No, a little restraint wasn’t too much to ask.

Uther snapped his hips forward and Merlin felt the hair at the top of Uther’s cock brushing against his arse. Merlin squeezed his thighs together, not for the first time wishing he had more meat on his bones to speed the King’s pleasure. Uther responded enthusiastically nonetheless and bucked harder in the sweat-wet clasp of Merlin’s fevered skin. 

Uther was close, his laboured breathing and harsher grasp a sure sign he was approaching the end. Merlin’s cock was aching against Uther’s grip and he could barely withstand the burning need to be rubbed. In the end he couldn’t help himself, though he knew he might pay for it later. “Harder, harder,” he gasped.

Thrusting erratically but without pause, Uther grunted and slapped his hips into Merlin’s and with one final shuddering groan, Merlin felt the warm spread of Uther’s release spill between his legs. Merlin kept very, very still, despite the desperate urge to push his hips forward and rub his cock though Uther’s fist.

“You would make demands of the King?” Uther growled.

“No, no, I was urging you. That’s all. It was _encouragement.”_ Merlin’s voice was husky. He turned his head to look at Uther, his weak grin dying as quickly as it had formed. Uther was flushed, dishevelled and ridiculous, but laughing was the furthest thing from Merlin’s mind.

Uther, however, bellowed loud and hearty. “I think your humours are out of balance - even more so than usual. You may finish yourself.”

“I thought ...” That was always a mistake, but it was too late now.

“You thought _I_ was going to do it?” Uther laughed harder, shaking Merlin with his mirth. 

Uther was feeling better then.

There was nothing to be done except take himself in hand, except Uther was still holding him, stroking him loose and slow. Deciding an alternative solution would have to be employed, Merlin tipped his head back, onto Uther’s shoulder, hooked his foot around Uther’s leg; the pooling heat in his groin pulsing until he couldn’t resist. He thrust forward, just a touch, gasping at the friction, the delicious friction as the tip of his cock brushed through Uther’s fist.

“I see now why my son indulges you. All right then, boy. I suppose you’ve earned this.” Uther closed his fist and with no more than a few flicks of his wrist Merlin was spilling in hot pulses.

By the time he’d recovered some breath, Merlin was shivering again as the sweat from his exertion cooled on the nightshirt and stuck to his clammy skin. “Can I take this off?” he ventured to ask Uther, who’d rolled onto his back and was almost asleep already.

Uther waved his hand in dismissal. Merlin took that as permission and hastily used the shirt to clean the mess between his legs and over his stomach - which left him naked and cold all over again.

He clambered back into bed and curled himself into a tight ball, pulling the covers firmly under his chin. He sniffed and pinched a sneeze from his nose as the space around him quickly warmed and finally he felt comfortable; a satisfied dullness taking over. 

Uther snored softly next to Merlin, his covers kicked off and his arms and legs splayed greedily over the bed. It was then that the thought crept in unbidden, like curls of dusky wood smoke, as Merlin himself dropped off into slumber, the night-darkness softened by the glow of firelight. 

Like father like son.


End file.
